


children of the ink

by bluebellbygones



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, family au, wl adopts ghost and there is nothing you can do to stop her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-24 18:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30076629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebellbygones/pseuds/bluebellbygones
Summary: “With the Void, are all things written.”The White Lady seeks a child to call her own. The Pale King seeks a vessel to save Hallownest. Both present their own benefits and detriments.
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & The Knight, The Pale King/White Lady (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 50





	1. maternalism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen wishes for a child. How can the King say no?

It had all been talked out, to the point where they were discussing in circles. Everything had been thought over, every sacrilege compensated. They’d both agreed to the intended method, including the sacrifice of their own children and the possibility of the Void infesting themselves. The Void given Focus was lost to time, but its essence still remained, and it was really the only thing capable of smothering light and dreams. A being of Void with the ability to dream was the only real way to contain Her. And so the Pale King and Queen had gone to the Abyss with their clutch. To steep their children until they were saturated with its properties.

“On one condition.” the White Lady said. “I will be keeping one of them at minimum.”

The Wyrm stared. This had come up halfway through their journey to the Abyss, down the tunnels of earthy, stale air of the Ancient Basin. Though they both illuminated the tunnels with their soft glow, the Queen seemed to encompass the area with her presence, her roots encompassing the space in its entirety. For any bug, it would have been something intimidating; for the King, it was something curious. “For what purpose?” said curiosity prompted him to ask.

She scoffed a laugh. “Why else? I wish for a child. Try and find the emptiness in one if you must, but I will save at least one of them, even if you deny me.”

“They will not be a regular child. You are aware of this, yes?”

“Fully.” her tone was sharp, quelling. Then she softened. “I just want to raise a child, Idris. I want to be a mother, no matter the state of my child, so long as they are living. I know you feel no readiness to have a family proper-“

“Myce-“ he tried.

“-but we are essentially about to kill off an entire clutch. That’s millions, _millions_ of my brood laid to slaughter. I cannot abandon all but your chosen, do you understand? You do not have to take part in raising mine.”

The King looked at her despairingly. “I cannot leave you alone in that. It is a task for more than one person.”

“Idris.” she bristled. Her fury towered above him. “You will not deny me.”

“I wouldn’t deny you this, my lady.” he said quietly, without flinching. In all the time he had known her, she had never been this aggressive, and he would be hard pressed to refuse her like this; it surely had to be important, at least to her. “Though I may doubt my readiness... and I will be preoccupied with the effort to contain Her, I... would offer my aid as I am able.”

She softened immediately. “You would?”

“For you, and what this will do to you.” he promised. “I would try to lessen your burden.”

The Queen dropped everything to lift up her husband and embrace him, nestling his head beneath her chin and trilling happily. He squirmed and weakly protested, but made no real attempts to escape. This happiness was short lived, however, as the task ahead made itself known in their minds, turning the mood somber. A draft from the abyss sounded less like wind and more like a howl, the howl of creatures unfathomable to even higher beings. It cut the momentary joy they had like a dull nail; not all the way through, but enough to impact, enough to sting.

“It is time.” the King said softly above the gale.

The Queen nodded, milky gaze drifting to the yawning dark that lay beyond the King’s Brand.

* * *

The Void Sea stretched out about as far as a lake, but its true horror lay in its depths, how deep it ran. The grey shores were impeccably smooth and without sand, yet the way they were carved suggested erosion. A canyon may have been a better descriptor for it, or a ravine. A crater. But who could ever swim across it without drowning? Not even a Pale being could fathom the idea, though their glow pacified it enough to allow their approach without trouble.

The clutch they bore came in the form of absolutely diminutive sized eggs; with the Root’s influence, they were more akin to the size of spores, And there were millions, millions of them within the sacs created to hold them, stowed beneath the White Lady’s robes, between her vines. She couldn’t bear to release them herself, so with great shame she entrusted the task to the Wyrm. It was with a gentle kneeling that he set them off into the inky waves, barely rippling the surface. It strangely reminded the Queen of their time at the Blue Lake festival, lightning lanterns and floating them off into the cavern. It was a ritual of remembrance; the Infection had been young back then, and had far less panic surrounding it.

The eggs were buoyant enough to float before becoming waterlogged and slipping in silence under the surface of the sea; the Queen made no attempt to hold back her grief. The King looked on, stone faced. 

After that, they departed from the shore, the Queen still weeping. “It will be alright, Myce.” the King attempted to comfort her in his own awkward and stilted way.

She nodded and sniffed. “Not all will survive the hatching anyway. It’s just…”

He patted her on the crook of her extended roots, curling his fingers gently around in a grip meant to be consoling. They retired, leaving the eggs to incubate in the chill of the pit.

* * *

The monarchs were not glad, but nonetheless obligated to return after the incubation period had passed. The King had returned a few times to tinker in his workshop, tending to his prototypes- the moulds- and check to see if the eggs still lived. Cast the needed runes of purpose upon the sea that stained them. A month had passed without incident, thus prompting them to return and see what became of the eggs that hatched.

The Queen was all but ready to descend to the shore once again, but the King stopped her. “They will come to us.” he promised. “I bid them so. Should they be worthy of consideration, they will ascend without incident.”

“And if they are not empty completely, what will you do?” she asked, knowing the answer all too well.

Idris sighed, almost inaudible, unnoticeable, were the silence not suffocating. “What I must.” he both did and did not answer her question.

They stood there without any further words to one another. The quiet was finally broken by a small, sickening CRACK of a mask, causing the Queen to violently flinch. But she voiced nothing, did nothing. She had known this would happen, had agreed to it in spite of everything inside her that rebelled vehemently against the very idea. She deserved to face this. Even as more sounds joined in, creating an echo of a kind, one that went all the way up the long, long, long drop, she stood there and refused look away. Her husband did the same; she wondered if he felt as she did. She hoped so. He looked so impassive it was horrific.

The first child that managed to ascend was one the King looked over thoroughly. Standard procedure from this point onwards, the Queen supposed. A small thing with two curved horns notched at the ends, white mask in contrast to its dark cloak. On its ascent, it had been clutching at the edge the royalty stood near with shivering claw for quite some time. Neither made any move to help it, but it had eventually managed to pull itself up nonetheless. It bore quite the likeness to the King, but its eyes were wide and blank, filled with nothing that went on forever.

The King stood up, having examined it. “It’s trembling.”

The Queen swiftly swooped up the vessel into her arms before the King could so much as blink. “It will do.”

She turned away, scurrying back towards the palace with her new charge in tow, a fond smile already on her face in her giddiness. Giddiness, but also a need to escape that place. Neither she nor her new child needed to hear the deaths of their siblings any longer. Such a tiny thing, half the size of her husband; would they ever exceed his current height, she wondered. Or would she be blessed to tease him about it for eons to come. “Hello, little one.” she cooed. “I’m your mother. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

Her husband was right; the poor thing was shaking like a leaf. She held them close to her chest, rubbing small circles with her roots into their back. “It must’ve been frightening,” she soothed. “but no harm will come to you now. You’re safe.”

The vessel still trembled, but she felt them slowly, carefully reach up and clutch at the fabric of her robes, hanging on tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally this was gonna be a little lighthearted write-bite of the white lady adopting ghost but my brain decided “y’know what. this needs a PLOT” so here i am.  
> this chapter is kinda heavy in tone, but the next few should be more pleasant. i think. i really can’t control my lil misery mitts sometimes. i want this story to be happy overall. i promise.  
> this story is very much still being planned so ill update it as it goes. maybe hornet will show up. maybe monomon. or grimm. or zote. you never know.  
> thank you for reading! ^^


	2. personality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new prime is given a bath. A knight is chosen.

Upon returning to the White Palace, the Queen came to the abrupt realization that she didn’t really have anywhere to put the little vessel. She’d been so concerned with receiving them alive that she hadn’t even thought about the room and supplies they would require. She supposed it was greatly helpful to be royalty at this time; anything her child required would be taken care of with a word or request from her. She slid past the kingsmoulds, clutching her baby tight, and was greeted by their retainers the second she passed the threshold. 

“Your Highness!” they cried, bowing low enough to scrape their masks on the tile. “You return!” She had a very… neutral opinion of them. Most regarded them as mindless sycophants, and perhaps it wasn’t unfounded, with their bows and hails happening all in unison as if it were practiced. It probably was. Mildly unnerving. But at least they were helpful.

One raised their head meekly to look at her charge. “Is that… the vessel the King has chosen?”

“No,” she said, head raised regally with the pride that suddenly swelled in her chest. “it is the one  _ I _ have chosen. They are to be my child.”

The retainer gasped. “An heir?”

“Perhaps.” she mused. “It seems unfair to determine their fate so soon, beyond being raised here. Which is why I would ask that we might designate quarters for them? Preferably near our bedroom. It need not be elaborate, but a crib is required.”

“Yes, your Highness!” the retainers all scurried off in different directions, taking their murmuring, gossiping mouths with them, leaving her unaccompanied and free to do what she wanted. The vessel still clutched tight to her chest, shaking slightly. She wondered if they were cold, as they were freezing to the touch. She had much to learn about this child, but that made it all the more exciting. She took to awaiting the room preparation by sitting upon the railing, roots curling tight over the stone and the foliage, and rocking her arms back and forth, shifting the little vessel slightly. She hummed to them, a lullaby she’d composed to comfort herself long ago, before her Wyrm had met her. He’d been so large back then. Again she wondered how large her child would grow; would they exceed her husband’s, or even hers? It would be most wonderful if she were able to hold them like this for their whole life- when they were alright with it, of course.

They were still trembling lightly in their arms and still felt cold to the touch, cold as the Abyss they’d been submerged in. With sadness, the Queen realized this was likely just their body temperature and their shaking was more than likely from fear. But didn’t they have every right to fear their parents? The Queen hadn’t desired to be picky, thus she had scooped up the first child that didn’t pass her husband’s “test”, but were she a true mother she might’ve found a way to take all of the little ones with her. She reasoned to herself that was ridiculous, they’d born enough children to triple the population of Hallownest, she couldn’t have all of them. Yet her heart languished at the thought that she could have raised them all.

She was broken from her thoughts by a housekeeper- thankfully not a retainer- coming up to her a politely murmuring her title to catch her attention. She looked up at the bug who bowed in return.

“We’ve prepared a room for the new- uh, prime. It is just down the hall from your master chambers, on the wing to the left. Do you desire an escort there?” he asked.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.” the Queen stood, noting how her child held on tighter with the change in height.

The housekeeper nodded. “Should you require anything, please let one of us know.” he bowed again and scampered off, leaving her to glide away to the new chambers. She wouldn’t trouble anyone with telling her where to go; she knew the palace well enough and honestly didn’t want to trouble anyone with navigating the elaborate construction that lead to the top floor. The King didn’t like to personally meet with his subjects besides the ones he knew well, and the Queen understood his social anxiety, but making reaching the throne room and their personal rooms the heroic task of navigating labyrinthine halls was just ridiculous. Regardless, she got there eventually.

It was a simple, unused room, furniture still covered in white sheets, with a stained window that overlooked the bailey. She was glad to see the retainers hadn’t done anything elaborate as she had asked. There was a crib by the wall beneath some hanging vines, a chair large enough for her by the window, and next to it was a plinth bearing a basin for washing. She sat in the chair, little one still clutching on to her, and felt the water’s temperature; warm, but not lukewarm. She wondered if it would be alright, what with their cold temperature. They were rather dirty, what with their journey out of the Void sea and their climb over the… remains of their hatchmates. It’d covered them in a light film of black grime. The Queen pulled them away from her just enough to look at them proper.

“You are filthy.” she stated. 

They stared at her. 

“I wanted to settle you into your crib as soon as we got here, but now I think you need a bath.” 

More staring. 

“Very well, then.”

* * *

It was good for the process of elimination, but bad for the conscience, that most of the vessels failed the climb out of the Abyss. It was mostly just a matter of bearing the sounds their little bodies made when they hit the ground or ledge; anything hard enough to crack their masks wide open. It sounded like his jaws might’ve if they’d gone through a burial mound. A haunting cacophony of crunching and breaking with no screams to accompany it. The King wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it if there were screaming.

For those who did make it to the top- it was well over a few hours and only about two dozen had arrived- they were thoroughly inspected. Some had looked him in the eye, some had shaken, some looked at their surroundings. One had even been jumping up and down in what was perhaps excitement. He turned his gaze away as he cast them back down into the dark. 

He wondered if his wife would’ve taken them all in; why she’d chosen to stop at the one child instead of claiming all these other flawed vessels. Perhaps she wanted the guarantee she would receive something from this tragedy; that by asking for the minimum, she would be sure to get what she wanted. They weren’t even sure there would be a worthy candidate to start.

It was a long time before the cracking started to slow, where the King could start to make out the individual bodies again. He could hear the sounds ending a lot sooner than before;he was certain it would put all the snail shamans’ burial mounds to absolute shame. Only a few made it to the top and were cast down for their flaws all the same. It was when the falls were far and few in between- which was at the end of the day- that one vessel made it to the top. It felt different than the others. Though its mask was similar to all of its siblings with only its wide scooped, twice pronged horns to set it apart, it had something about it- an aura, perhaps, if he were to use a wild simile- that betrayed it certain difference to those of its kin.

The Pale King inspected it. It didn’t shake, stared straight ahead, didn’t even look up at his face. There wasn’t even a motion that indicated it breathed. With a swell of hope, the King inspected its thoughts and found nothing but darkness. Absolutely nothing to find within.

His relief was tremendous. Enough time had passed that he was afraid he’d never find one, or worse, he’d have to submerge more of their eggs again. Now, if his runes were made correctly, it should follow his every order. The King could only hope that it would, and wondered briefly if the Queen’s chosen would be just as obedient. It might make for easy to manage children- no, child, but this wasn’t to be an automaton. Perhaps there was a way to undo the spells he cast prior to their hatching, under the assumption they’d take effect. But he wasn’t sure why he was ruminating on this; it currently wasn’t any of his concern. He turned to leave the abyss, commanding the vessel to follow him. It did so without any delay.

He turned and placed his hand upon the weathered shell that marked the entrance, a deep rumble sliding the two halves back into some semblance of their previous whole, and stamped it with his brand, sealing it to everyone but himself. There was no need to return to the refuse and regret of that which was necessary.

The King looked upon his chosen, who still stared at the wall, unmoving unless he took a step forward. More complex, perhaps more alive than a kingsmould, but mechanical just the same. He wondered why there were so many differences he had to sort through, though he expected as much, and why was it this one in particular. What about it made it so different from its others? If this one were the one to have first made the ascent, would the Queen have snatched it away in desperation to mother it and left him to train it- mature it- while she fruitlessly tried to care for the needs and emotions it simply did not have? Though he deemed it more likely that she would have demanded to stay until another reached the top. She was practical in that way, in not attracting unnecessary. Now, he mostly hoped that hers would be as imperfect as it possibly able to be, to avoid breaking her heart.

All the same, as he stared at his chosen, he couldn’t help but think that it was a child like hers. As much as he knew that it wasn’t.

“You shall seal the blinding light that plagues their dreams.” he told himself more than he told it. “You are our chosen vessel. Our Hollow Knight.”

Were he not so lost in his own thoughts and self assurance, he might’ve seen the vessel stiffen the slightest fraction.

* * *

The little one didn’t like baths very much.

Perhaps it was the warmth or the scent of the soap. Perhaps it was the foreign feeling of the water or the unfamiliarity of their grime being wiped away. Perhaps they were simply old enough to assert their opinion. A mature infant, the Queen mused, in stark contrast to their current tantrum.

“Keep still.” she tutted, putting them in an almost full body hold with her roots, leaving their stubby limbs to flail wildly in her grasp, little legs kicking up suds and flinging them across the room. “The less you struggle, the sooner this will be over.” She got a splash to her face for her reprimand.

“I am the Queen of Hallownest.” she playfully declared as she wiped the suds from her face, unable to stop smiling. “And more importantly, your mother. It is by my royal decree-” another splash to her face. “that you will be subjected to proper cleanliness habits and reasonable bedtimes.”

An entire face-full of suds made by both their feet kicking up at the same time was their reply. She squinted as the soap stung her eyes however barely. Not enough to dissuade her. “I am a goddess. Your little charlatan tricks may blind me briefly, but my power is inescapable!” With that, she fully dunked them in the basin, sending a large wave out and over, getting soapy water all over the floor as well as her robes. “Oops.”

A few more minutes of wrangling yielded a young vessel much cleaner than before, their mask white as the palace, their strange, limp wings a dark gray rather than a muddied black. Very handsome this way, their mother thought. They seemed much more content with being pat down with a towel than being bathed, and went so far as to grab the towel and pull it around them like a fluffy cloak. As they shuffled about with it, the Queen stuck her roots into the cracks in the tile and soaked up as much of the water as she could, not wanting to cause too much trouble for the housekeepers, but making a face at the taste of the soap all the same. Was it undignified? Probably. But she’d done stranger things in her lifetime.

Her husband would probably be against this however. So it was quite fortunate that she had finished ‘cleaning’ when he walked in the room.

“Having fun?” he surveyed the mess pointedly.

“Ah! Idris! You return!” she exclaimed hastily. “I was simply bathing the little one and- um- this happened!”

“...You seem happy about it.”

“Do I?” In spite of herself, the Queen beamed. “Well, that’s rather strange! But- oh,” she sobered. “if you’re back...”

The King nodded, looked off to somewhere behind the doorway, and spoke. “Come.”

A little vessel padded out, stood next to him. So remarkably similar to her child, the only difference being their far larger horns on their mask. But they had a stillness the other didn’t, nearly rigid where they stood. There was the same void of anything in the eyes of their mask- but unlike her little one, where this trait was easily ignored as they displayed others that proved clearly they were alive, this one just looked haunted. Still, silent, solemn. Empty.

Pure.

“What happens now?” the White Lady asked softly.

“The Dreamers, I suppose.” he answered. “Since Herrah is already here, I figured I may as well get her acquainted with it.”

“Such developments won’t cause interference with the Deepnest treaty, will it?”

“I should think not. Considering her cooperation in sealing the Infection is a part of the conditions, I don’t see how it would cause detriment to anything.”

The Queen nodded. “Right...”

There was a small silence in which neither party said or did anything, apart from the Queen averting her gaze from the vessel. The little one still clung tightly to the towel it was wrapped in, looking curiously from the King to the vessel and back. There was a curiosity in the void behind the mask, almost laser-like in its intensity; rarely did the Wyrm ever feel scrutinized by anything, but he was nearly unsettled. How empty it seemed, yet how lifelike it acted.

“Is it...” the King fumbled. “to your liking?”

“Of course they are.” she murmured. She bent over them then, ruffling them with the towel to dry them off a little more thoroughly. They jostled along with her movements, squirming.

“It seems rather… unruly.”

“Their sire is  _ you _ , after all.” The White Lady teased him gently, making him scoff. “Deny it as you might, do you remember what our first few meetings were like? You were such a wild thing, making a mess of-”

“I was larger then.” he blustered before clearing his throat, correcting himself. “In any event, I will be taking the vessel to the workshop. If you need me for anything, I will be there.”

“Of course.” she nodded as the pair took their leave. As the train of her husband’s robe vanished out of sight, the vessel lingered, gaze seemingly stuck to the other one’s. Neither of them moved for the longest time, until the vessel’s head tilted up just a bit to look up at the Queen. It looked as though they were thinking. Observing. But her husband would claim that wasn’t possible, given that he’d selected correctly. And he would be adamant that he  _ had _ selected correctly.

The White Lady waved. The vessel did not respond to the gesture in any way, turning to follow after the King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dreamers are gonna show up next chapter. thank you for reading!


End file.
